Remember Me
by purpleberries28
Summary: She was clinging on to his shoulders, a fierce, desperate expression on her face.     "I'm not going anywhere, Harry," she said. "I am not leaving you."     Rated M just to be on the safe side! Most of it is absolutely fine though
1. Prologue: Another Life

Remus shivered in his thin clock, peering through the thick onslaught of rain. Water splashed inside his tattered boots, making his feet numb from the cold.

Tonks tripped over a loose stone in the pavement, and he automatically steadied her as she stumbled. The girl nodded her thanks and let go of his arm. They walked on ahead. The streets were empty – no Muggles were around apart from an old man singing in the doorway to the pub.

The rain was so thick it was hard to see through. Remus wished he'd thought to wear warmer clothes, as his thin robes offered little warmth.

There had been no time to think of such details.

His eyes burned with the effort of suppressing the tears that threatened to engulf him. He tilted back his head, letting the salty taste of them run down his throat. Beside him, Tonks was crying. He wished she hadn't come; though she presented a calm persona when dealing with situations such as these, he knew what it cost her. After missions similar to this one Remus had had to comfort her as she wept uncontrollably on his shoulder, the steely glint in her eyes chased away by tears. She was too young to be involved in things like this, but no one had been able to keep her away.

The pale glow from the streetlamps fell onto the cobbled street. He saw them as pale fingers reaching through the night. He had no need of the light – that was one advantage of being a werewolf, he thought dryly. Night vision.

However, he was sure Tonks must be glad of it; though being able to see made no difference to her clumsiness.

How strange that it had happened here again.

The statue of his friends flickered and came into view in front of them. Lily and James, their faces smiling as they gazed down at the small boy in his mother's arms. James would have liked being a statue; Remus could well imagine how James would crow with delight when seeing his face portrayed in bronze…and how he would then complain that they hadn't got the nose right.

The two moved on through the storm, Remus fighting down memories. Memories of his school days did not hurt him now, as they had a few years before. He liked to remember.

Nobody knew of this. When he heard, it had taken him by surprise. Who was carrying out Voldemort's wishes, when the darkest of wizards was believed dead and gone?

The house loomed before them, and he could see clearly the extent of the damage. The small cottage had been destroyed. It was hard to believe that a living person could be breathing under the rubble of bricks.

Tonks went through the gate first, her wand tip lit as she went up the garden path. Burnt patches of grass destroyed the lawn. Someone had planted pansies there. The bright colours looked out of place in the dismal scene.

"Should we…" Tonks asked, turning to him for conformation. Remus nodded his consent, and took out his own wand.

"Reparo."

The rubble that lay at their feet was lifted into the air, bricks stacking themselves neatly, glass flying back into empty window frames. The roof tiles fell into position. There was even a trail of smoke coming from the newly repaired chimney.

Remus blinked the wetness out of his eyes and opened the blue front door. Inside, it was as if nothing had ever happened. A grandfather clock was chiming out the hour next to a small table. Flowers were placed in a vase nearby, the water swilling as Remus walked past them. Behind him, he felt Tonks shiver. She was too young to be seeing this, she should not have volunteered.

Remus took a sharp right into the lounge and closed his eyes at the sight he saw. The man and woman lay still on the beige carpet that blood was still sinking into. The two corpses were side by side, mangled and torn. Tonks let out a chocking gasp as she bent down beside the man and stroked his light hair away from his bruised face.

"She's not here," she said, wiping her nose silently.

Remus relaxed his grasp on the worn wood of his wand as he listened hard. Another gift that came to werewolves – exceptional hearing.

And then he heard it. A small cry from upstairs.

He didn't stop to wait for Tonks; he hurtled up the stairs and into a canary-yellow room. A small toddler was sitting on the floor, her pudgy legs curled underneath her, butter-yellow curls framing her round face, which was red as her cries rose to a crescendo.

"Sh…" He took her in her arms, ignoring her screams and kicks as she realised he was a stranger. "Shh…"

He had believed it was all over, that things like this wouldn't happen anymore. The young orphan bawled loudly in his arms, and he didn't know how to comfort her.

Remus took her downstairs. Tonks was waiting for him in the hall. They shared a meaningful glance. He wasn't sure whether to feel relived or sad, as he moved quickly past the lounge so the infant would not see the mangled bodies of her parents on the floor. "Shh now…"

Tonks had the baby now, talking to it, soothing it, a waterfall of meaningless words flowing from her lips and the toddler stopped her crying as she smiled and patted Tonks's face with a fat hand.

"What now?" asked Tonks, gently bouncing the baby in her arms.

"We need to take her to Dumbledore," Remus replied, stepping out of the house. He didn't want to be in there a second longer than he had to. The blood-stained floor kept filling his mind, making him shudder from the horror of it. "He'll know what to do."

She nodded, and together they turned on the spot. The house disappeared from their sight, looking perfect in every way, ornaments and pictures still standing.

A memory from another life.


	2. Dreams

Harry screwed up his eyes against the fierce wind that forced its way around his glasses. It was unbearably cold, and he could hardly feel his numb hands that were clenched on his broom handle. A strong sense of déjà vu was creeping over him. Harry had escaped from the Dursley's house in the same way last year. Lupin, Mad-Eye, Kingsley…all had come to guard him, and Harry could well remember the relief he had felt of being with wizards again, of having that sense of being liked after spending so long at his aunt and uncle's house.

Moody's guttural growl sounded from somewhere to his right, presumably to suggest flying higher, and Tonks's loud complaint could be heard easily through the wind rushing through his ears. Five of them had turned up to escort him to Grimmauld Place, the explanation being hissed quickly as they levitated all his possessions into his trunk. There was no time to wait, as there had been a year before.

He had been going to Grimmauld Place then too. Only this time there would be no Sirius there, waiting to greet him.

_Don't think about it_, he told himself for the thousandth time.

Hestia dived down through the many layers of cloud and he mirrored her action, eager to get into the warm. The two terraced houses stood before him, and he quickly looked down at the sopping sheet of paper, unwilling to take his eyes off the surroundings for fear of attack. His eyes flew across the stylised script, memorising the words and then Harry looked up.

Number 12, Grimmauld Place stood in the middle of Muggle London.

He was pushed forcefully inside by Moody and waited in the dark hallway while the Order members locked the door.

Sirius's home…

It had never been a cheerful place, even when his godfather was alive, but now the house was full of shadows. An empty hole of what might have been. Here, he could have lived with Sirius. Maybe, in the end, Sirius would have been cleared of all charges against him and could be free. It would be a home to Harry, a proper home. He would come back here for the holidays, be able to invite Ron and Hermione round, Sirius would…

Harry leant his head against the wall. Memories hit him with the force of a bludger in the dark. Memories of the Department of Mysteries…

And the knowledge, the burning, painful knowledge that it was _he_ that had caused it. He had led his friends into danger. Hermione had nearly been killed.

Sirius had.

The dreams were the worst. Dreams where he saw Voldemort's face in every corner, where he relived the pain he had felt when possessed. Where he saw Cedric die in the graveyard, where he saw Sirius fall behind the veil. Nightmares of blood, danger and death.

Harry rubbed his scar, pressing his hands to his forehead. It had barely stopped prickling all summer, but he had stopped worrying about it now. He had got used to it.

The lights flickered on, casting a glowing light onto the faded wallpaper. "Ron's upstairs, Harry," said Hestia. "Probably asleep…I expect you're tired too?"

Harry nodded and went into the room he had shared with Ron last year. She was right; Ron was lying on a bed, mouth open, snoring loudly. Harry envied Ron for his peaceful sleep. He did not have to watch his friends die over and over again, like a movie that was played in his head every time he closed his eyes.

He slipped in between the cover, his freezing body soaking up the warmth.

Nightmares of blood, danger and death.

Cassandra woke with a start, her grey eyes flying open in the darkness. A wave of relief swept over he as she saw her surroundings. _Just a dream_ she thought, trying to comfort herself. _ It's only a dream_. Her breath had evened out now, and she flopped back into her untidy bed.

She had the same dream every night, but in the morning Cassandra could never remember the exact details. Only a sense of hurt, indignation…and loss. Loss and sadness. She angrily rubbed her eyes and blinked, making sure she was fully awake. _Only a dream_.

Cassandra's bedroom had not been decorated for seven years. Her floor was covered in rubbish – sweet wrappers, broken quills, screwed up pieces of parchment. A passage ran from the door to her bed; it was the only part of the room not swamped in litter. Cassandra had got so used to her bedroom she had stopped seeing it.

"Cass, breakfast!" Debbie called.

"Okay!" she wound an old lilac dressing gown around her body and hurried down the stairs, lighting the lamps with her wand as she went by. The Decree of Underage Magic didn't affect her, for she had been home-schooled by her adoptive parents. However, this meant that she had had a very sheltered life, with hardly any contact with people of her own age. Cassandra had asked repeatedly for five years to be able to go to school, but Debbie and John had always refused. But this summer thing had changed.

"Sleep well?" asked Debbie, stirring sugar into her coffee and looking concernedly at Cassandra.

She shrugged. "Not bad." She didn't mention the dreams to her.

"I thought I heard you-"

"No." There had been an incident a few months back when Cassandra knew she had screamed in her sleep. Debbie bursting in through her door at three in the morning had effortlessly banished the dreams, but also all hope of relaxing at night.

Cassandra sat down at the table, sipping her coffee carefully. She hated burning her tongue, which she had done once too often for her liking.

"Any owls?"

Debbie shook her head. "Cass, I'm sorry about this but it's got to be done. Are you sure you're okay with going to Hogwarts?"

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Debbie, I think I'll cope." As if she hadn't been begging to go for ages! To get to know people of her own age…to not be taught by people who alternated teaching with doing the washing and cooking. A lot of the spells Debbie had taught Cassandra involved household maintenance.

Debbie sighed, draining her mug. "Well, we'd better be off soon. Come on, get dressed. Chop chop!"

Cassandra rolled her eyes again. "_Debbie…_" She grabbed a banana and went up to her room again.

_Forget about the dreams. They're not important. Just a dream…_


	3. Charming, Isn't He?

Harry grinned, watching Ron shift uncomfortably as the tape measure flew around his body, recording the length of arms, legs, height and for some reason his nose.

"I don't know why Fred and George made me get new dress robes; they got me new ones last year! I don't need them!"

Harry raised his eyebrows. He was having more fun than he had done in a while.

"Probably because of your growth spurt," he said, watching as the tape measure flew around his best friend's little toe. "You can't wear dress robes that show off your ankle."

Ron muttered something about, "wouldn't mind," then shifted his weight for the fifth time in a minute. "How long is this measuring thing going on for?"

"Well, it's obviously very important to get the right size robes for you…"

"Oh, that explains why it's measuring my ear, does it Harry?"

The tape measure hit Ron around the head and Harry thought that if it could look offended it would do so.

"Ow!" Ron stepped backwards to avoid the tape measure but collided with a pile of robes that were stacked behind him.

"Ron…"

But Harry's warning came too late. Ron had stumbled in his overlarge new robes and fallen into the pile which collapsed on top of him. Multi-coloured robes folded themselves, covering up Ron's head. Muted curses could be heard from inside the pile.

Harry snorted with laughter, choking as Ron's bright pink face emerged from the clothes, a hot-pink sleeve hanging over his forehead.

"Ron, that looks amazing, the pink goes really well with your hair…"

Ron threw the robes at Harry as an assistant came over, tutting loudly.

"Oh, you think they'd suit me? Thanks for the thought, but you'd look much better in them."

"Shut it Harry!"

But Ron was smiling too, and gave a short laugh that was overshadowed by Harry's roaring. The assistant, however, was not joining in as she shook out the crumpled robes.

"I don't see why you had to jump into the middle of the pile," she sighed, passing her wand over a lilac dress so the creases magically disappeared. "And why you moved when I told you you had to stay still why the measuring was taking place, I have no idea." The measuring tape, which had lied dormant on the floor perked up at this and nodded vigorously.

"And I thought only _first-years_ weren't able to stand still."

Ron turned a violent shade of scarlet and the tape measure nodded harder.

Harry heard a new laugh from the back of the shop and turned to look for the source of it, imagining that Hermione had finished shopping in Flourish and Blotts, but instead his gaze fell on a strange girl he had never seen before staring at them unashamedly, her face grinning with mirth.

She was laughing at Ron and so she didn't see Harry staring at her. _And I thought Cho looked good _he thought, his mind babbling incoherently.

Her long, dusky gold hair tickled her elbows and framed her heart-shape face. Hung over one arm was a pile of silky black robes, presumably Hogwarts uniform Harry thought. She had seen him now, and he quickly looked away as she turned her grey eyes to face him, an eyebrow rising.

"Oi!" Ron yelled from where he was struggling out of his new dress robes. "What're you laughing at?"

The strange girl grinned at him. "_Only first-years aren't able to stand still,"_ she said, mimicking the assistant's voice.

Harry closed his eyes, knowing how Ron's quick temper flared up when he was embarrassed. He wasn't disappointed.

"Yeah, well you shouldn't have been looking. And you shouldn't have laughed either!"

"Kind of hard not to."

Ron seemed taken aback by her quick retaliations. He stuttered for words, glowering at the girl. Madam Malkin strode over, holding a shoebox.

"There you go dear," she smiled, handing the shoes to the blonde-haired girl.

"Thank you."

Her tone had changed so completely, in a matter of seconds, to unquestionable politeness. She accepted the box with a smile and handed over some silver to Madam Malkin.

"Have a nice time at Hogwarts," the robemaker smiled.

"Will do. Thanks again."

The girl turned and headed for the door.

"You're going to Hogwarts?"

She turned around, clutching her bag to stare at Harry, defiance in her eyes. "Yes."

"You don't look much like a first-year."

She raised her eyebrows again. "That's probably because I'm not eleven."

"What year are you in then?" asked Harry curiously.

"Sixth." The girl headed for the door and left the shop.

Ron let out a low whistle, coming over to Harry with a similar bag in his arms. "She's got some problems."

Harry smiled inside at how easily his friend could hate someone. "You hardly know her. And she didn't do anything rude."

"She laughed at me!"

"So did I, you were hilarious."

But Ron took no notice of him as they went outside into the cold, chilly mist that covered Diagon Alley. Harry let his voice fade into the background as he looked around the once crowded, now empty street. People weren't stopping to chat to each other now, to browse in the shop windows. Instead they hurried, not wanting to spend a second longer outside than they had too. The mist was penetrating and hard to see through, left over by the Dementors who patrolled wizarding streets, outside the Ministry's control.

It was surprising, really, that Harry had been allowed to leave the Weasley's with no other protection. No Aurors had come with them today, and although he was not sorry, he was surprised. It was as if they didn't care whether he lived or died.

Tonks and Kingsley were arguing loudly, hidden behind a wall.

"Kingsley, I don't see what the point of all this is!"

He sighed and glowered down at the now pink-headed Auror. "Dumbledore wants Harry followed."

"Yes, yes, I know that bit." She flung her arms up in frustration. "But hasn't he shown that he can look after himself? He's _sixteen_! He's done more than me when I was his age!"

"But you did not have the Dark Lord wanting to…quick, he's moving." Kingsley moved between the small crowd of amulet sellers and into Flourish and Blotts and Tonks clattered after him, knocking over a stand on her way.

"…the Dark Lord wanting to kill you," continued Kingsley as if nothing had happened, watching the wizards picking up their goods, grumbling angrily. "And can't you move four feet without tripping over something?"

Tonks glared at him and leant against the wall of the bookshop. "At least I was actually _doing_ something last year, whereas you were just sending people out on pointless searches for Sirius!"

Kingsley watched Harry and Ron greet Hermione and wander over to the Herbology section before he replied. "For your information, I was 'doing something' for the Order. And we're meant to be guarding Harry!"

Tonks blew out her cheeks and banged her head rhythmically against the wall.

"Stop being so childish."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

Kingsley frowned and turned away to face the trio again, where were now paying at the till, Mrs Weasley hovering over them like a motherly dragonfly. Ron was leaning on the desk, staring vacantly out at the shoppers and Kingsley pulled Tonks out of sight. She was too distinctive with that hot-pink hair she insisted on having. Harry had now paid and turned round to speak to his friend, who was now sending an ugly glare into the corner of the bookshop. Kingsley turned around slowly, so as not to attract suspicion; wand raised and saw what Ron was glaring at.

"Oh!" exclaimed Tonks happily, catching sight of the dark-blonde girl at the same time as Ron and Harry moved past her. Before Kingsley could stop her, she had darted out from the shadows and strode across their path, waving to the unknown girl.

"Wotcher Cass!"

Kingsley closed his eyes and wondered why Dumbledore had been so stupid to assign he task of keeping Harry safe to this immature girl.

"Hey Tonks."

Harry and Ron had spun round, smiles on their faces to greet Nymphadora, but stopped when they saw who she was talking to.

"Hogwarts? Great, I'm one of the Aurors assigned to the school and surrounding area."

"Really? Oh, well, I can come and see you!"

Tonks smiled at Cassandra and turned around to greet Harry and Ron. "Wotcher."

"Tonks, what are you doing here?"

The Auror smiled and deflected the question with ease. "Auror work. Scrimgoeur has realised that You-Know-Who's back at last, so he's seriously overworking us to make up for the Ministry's mistake. Nah, it's just watching out for any trouble basically. Or any Dementors. It's why there's all this mist."

Harry nodded at her explanation of Ministry work, unaware of the real reason. His eyes flickered back to Cassandra again. "Are you here alone? Because you really shouldn't be. Death Eaters aren't in hiding anymore, so-"

"I'm not a child!" The girl called Cassandra burst out angrily. Harry was taken aback; Tonks could see it in his eyes.

"I know you're not," he said.

"Oh, leave it Harry," groaned Ron. "Let's leave her alone, it's not like she's going to say anything nice."

He dragged him away and Cassandra watched them go, a slight frown on her face.

"Charming, isn't he?" she said haughtily. "See you." She walked back to Debbie, a copy of _Advanced Potion Making_ in her hands.

Tonks waved at her and turned around, suddenly finding herself face to face with Kingsley.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he whispered angrily. "Potter isn't supposed to know we're tailing him."

A small smile wove its wave onto Tonks's lips. "Speaking of tailing Harry, Shacklebolt, you've just missed him. He's gone out the shop."

Kingsley paused, and then guffawed loudly. "Well, come on then Tonks," he took her hand and pulled her out into the cold, grey street. "Let's get on with it, seeing as you're so keen."


End file.
